


Under Covers

by TheWorldIsOurCliche



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternative Version of the season 1 finale and everything that goes down between seasons, Amy dealing with the whole situation on her own, Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Infidelity, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15944711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWorldIsOurCliche/pseuds/TheWorldIsOurCliche
Summary: The one where Jake Peralta confesses his feelings right before going undercover, and it drives Amy Santiago insane. Trying her best to help the case along without interfering with anyone, though it is in no way, shape or form her job, she gets involved with the Italian mafia itself - for better and for worse. Especially worse when her undercover project accidentally goes under covers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> So I just randomly came up with this idea today whilst watching the last episode of season 1. I always thought that that last scene with Jake confessing his feelings and going undercover had endless amounts alternative resolutions, so I came up with this. It's everything I love: drama, angst and fluff - combined. 
> 
> So far I just have the prologue, but if you guys seem to like it and want more then I'll definitely keep it going! So tell me what you think! It'll be a bit more "mature" than other things I've written, but I'll change rating and warnings as I go, if I feel like it's necessary.

** PROLOGUE **

 

I really wasn’t supposed to turn out the way it did. It wasn’t supposed to turn out _at all_. Not only was it wrong moralistically, but it also put a lot of people in danger. Many months of hard work towards unravelling proof and truth could’ve easily been destroyed within the narrow time window that so mercifully allowed the act to play out in the darkness of crime and coarseness. So much had been and still was at stake. It was still unclear whether or not it had been a good idea, but on the other hand, right there in the moment, in certainly hadn’t explicitly been an _idea_. It wasn’t something she’d thought through, like she always would. It wasn’t intentional; Not for a second. Down to the very last millisecond before she’d submitted to her frantic mind and felt herself being dragged into the greatest kind of dilemma, it hadn’t been the intention. 

 

It just happened. For every and no reason at all. 

 

The situation had exploded all over the place, and so had she - or so it felt, as she typed away on her computer, feeling the dark purple hickey- one of them - burning right beneath her jaw under the multiple layers of concealer she’d applied in order to avoid questions and suspicions. Softly, taking a second to read what she’d typed in, she let her left hand run over the concealed spot. Though it was out of sight, she knew exactly where it was. It melted into her otherwise chill skin, causing her skin to crawl every time she took a second to let it burn her. What she’d done was _wrong;_ it was eating her alive and the one person she could actually talk about it with was off the grid for an unknown amount of time, which was what it all came down to. She wanted Jake back. She wanted to see him walk into the precinct every morning - preferably late, she wanted to have him tease her even when she wanted it the least, she wanted to have a beer with him at Shaws… Amy Santiago wanted Jake Peralta to come back from his undercover mission and that’s how it’d all started. She remembered it all too clearly, even though it’d been months since it happened. 

_She reached her car - gosh if only she could’ve left 2 minutes earlier, then he wouldn’t have caught her - and was about to unlock it, when she heard her name being formed out loud so perfectly, the way only his lips could._

_“Amy!”_

_She’d immediately spun around to see Jake drenched in the lamppost’s orange light, walking towards her with a box in his arms. That night, though no one but herself noticed, she clearly remembers her heart dropping upon seeing him carry his things away from the precinct. He was really going to be gone._

_“Hey,” he continued, slightly out of breath - probably from carrying his stuff. “Thought I’d missed you.”_

Gosh, if only he had.

_Nonetheless, feeling saddened or not, she put on a sincere smile and congratulated him. “Hey, Jake. Amazing assignment.” No matter how she personally felt about it, it was - professionally speaking - an amazing case and deep down she knew that it’d be stupid to give it to anyone else but him. He was the perfect man for the case. But she wasn’t about to let him off the hook with that. That’s not how they worked. They teased; they bickered; they competed. The good, old Santiago and Peralta-way. “I have to admit: I’m a little jealous.”_

_“Really?”_

_Though his choice of word said something else, he didn’t look the least kind of surprised. But of course he didn’t. He was just getting ready for another quirky comeback. Banter._

_“Well if you wanna, I can help you get fired. I’m really good at it.”_

_There it was. While his lips were busy joking, his mischievous eyes gave away the pleasure he got from being a jokester and hearing her giggle in response. She wasn’t always in the mood for his humour - but right then and there, alone in the alley’s lamppost’s light and knowing that this might be the last time she’d get to do it in a long time - she allowed herself to laugh. For once, she actually wished she could’ve asked him to go on, to keep joking, to just stay for a bit so she wouldn’t have to get in the car and go home to an empty apartment. Alas…_

_“Yeah…” He looked down at the ground, and she noticed how the mischief quickly melted off his face. His expression suddenly turned rather stern and it honestly upset her. They couldn’t keep acting like everything was normal; he was leaving. This was goodbye._

_“This is real; this is happening.”_

 

_By saying it out loud, she secretly hoped he’d tell her otherwise; that he wouldn’t leave and that someone else had been put on the case. They could brush it off and go for a beer; she wouldn’t have to watch her partner leave. Not entirely sure whether it was because of what she said, or if it’d already been right beneath surface, when he called out her name, but it really looked like something dubious was on his mind - and it was bothering him. Greatly._

_“Look- uhm,” he’d barely started the sentence before a nervous half-laugh had interrupted it. Jake Peralta didn’t get nervous. Something was definitely bothering him. “I don’t wanna be a jerk. I know-“ he haltered, finally diverting his directly back at her instead of everywhere else as he the upcoming words nervously tumbled around in the back of his throat._

_“I know you’re dating Teddy,” a smile, or not really - maybe more of a distraction from what he had and was about to say - made its way back onto his face as he continued the controversial border he was afraid of but had to cross. “And things are going really well… It’s just…” He seemed for a loss of word, overwhelmed by whatever was going on in his always busy mind._

_“What’s going on?” Though she had no certainty - this could go every direction imaginable - Amy could feel her heart beating fast with every stretched second. Her eyes had squinted slightly in confusion, but her voice still light, cheerful as to emphasise that she wanted to hear what he had to say. The subject seemed emotional, and if there was a top 3 of well-known fact about her partner, “struggles with emotions” would definitely be on that list._

_“I don’t know what’s going to happen on this assignment and…”_

_Just the thought of something unexpected; catastrophic; harmful happening to Jake - something that could prevent him from telling her whatever he was about to - made her feel sick._

_“If something bad goes down, I think I’d be pissed at myself if I didn’t say this.”_

 

_Without even noticing herself - her body completely in control of every emotions, every expression she gave off - her eyes had sunk, grown deeply worried and even… hurt. How she could care, worry and feel so many different things for this idiot was beyond her knowledge; it was slowly driving her insane. Her instincts told her that she wasn’t ready to hear what he was about to say, when he took a deep breath, working up his courage and exhaled loudly._

_“I kinda wish something could happen between us. Romantic stylez.”_

_That was it. That’s all she needed to hear in order to shut down completely. A thousand disoriented thoughts flew through her mind within his 2 seconds of silence. Meeting him and their awkward faze, getting to know each other, getting assigned as partners, being deeply annoyed by him, their bantering, becoming friends only to challenge and annoy each other even more - was is all just an act? Did he actually want more? All this time she’d thought it was just how they were - the Santiago-Peralta-dynamic. Amidst this avalanche of thoughts and pure internal conflicting, he continued._

_“And I know it can’t, cause you’re with Teddy and I’m going undercover and…”_

_To Amy, all of this sounded like it was being said under water. She was caught in the darkness of the eternal ocean, and somewhere over the surface, Jake was talking._

_“That’s just how it is, but-“_

_An almost robotic voice coming from a radio stuck to an officer leaving the building beside them interrupted him, causing his head to snap to the side, making sure that no one noticed their delicate situation. After that he hadn’t said much more. With an apologetic, almost embarrassed look on his face, he’d explained that they weren’t supposed to have any contact and walked off, head down, scurrying away like a scolded child._

_If she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn that she was having a stroke. Her mouth was now agape, still drowning in his revelation and wanting to hold him back. Badly. But she couldn’t. She had to let him go. America needs me. She prayed to God that those weren’t the last words she would ever hear from him._

 

_Thus began the torment that would be the next 6 months of her life without Jake Peralta._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've only written this chapter and the next so far, which means that I need to know whether you guys want me to hold back for a while and then post a routine, weekly chapter once the story is finished OR you want to me to just post randomly as I go (every time I manage to finish a new chapter). Both will demand some time since I'm in school, just started, so am quite busy. But I will of course try to be as fast as possible no matter what you guys prefer! 
> 
> Hold back until ready for weekly posts OR post randomly as I go? 
> 
> Let me know in a comment and also of course what you think of the new chapter!
> 
> xx!

From the very second, millisecond, Jake Peralta’s emotional revelation had dropped from his lips that night, everything had pretty much gone to hell; that is if you ask Amy. After being frozen in the same spot for several minutes, trying to figure out what to do with this new information - only to conclude that there was no good answer to that - she’d just barely managed to get herself and her wobbly legs into her car to drive home. On the drive home, all she could think about was Jake. He was everywhere. Even in the lights along the side of the road, illuminating the evening-travellers journey. It vividly reminded her of the orange light that’d beamed onto his skin from above, when his dark dark chocolate eyes had finally managed to divert to hers after dithering for what seemed like forever - though it was only a matter of a couple of heartbeats; a couple of heavy breaths. 

Tonight was a long shift, she was exhausted - physically and emotionally - and for a second, as she dropped her purse to the floor of her apartment, she didn’t feel guilty for appreciating the fact that the late shift had been the reason why she wasn’t seeing Teddy today. That would’ve been too much. Truth be told, she always mocked Jake for being bad at emotions, but ironically enough today the tables had turned. Jake had laid out all of his cards for her; for once he’d been as clear as day (except for the whole ‘just gonna leave you here alone with this revelation and leave for 6 months’-thing). Now she was the mess, and the picture she could already paint of her next interaction with Teddy wasn’t pretty. At all. In fact a pre-schooler could do better. 

With a heavy mind or was it a heavy heart - she couldn’t quite tell the difference - she urged herself into firstly some pyjamas; then her bed. Usually it felt a bit empty, when Teddy wasn’t around, but tonight it felt empty for completely different - and wrong - reasons. 

The next day wasn’t much better, but at lead work could take the worst off her mind; or so she thought. She’d of course gotten there 15 minutes early - Santiago style - and gotten herself settled for the day ahead. Her jacket was hanging on the back of her chair in case she’d have to leave for a case; a cup of warm coffee in her NYPD mug next to her computer, which she’d just booted and logged into, was waiting to be sipped on; her ponytail was tight and flawless like always. All in all, by the time the clock struck 8 AM, she was ready for whatever perps and crimes were going to be thrown at her today. 

“Detective squad,” she turned her head to look back over her shoulder, immediately seeing the captain’s tall silhouette standing in the doorway to his office. “Today’s briefing will be of a graver quality. Please meet me in the briefing room in 2 minutes.”

Immediately upon hearing the word ‘graver’, Amy felt her heart launch right into her throat. And she knew exactly why. She hated it. Though she could pretend to be fine; she could be distracted all day long; she could act like everything was like it used to be - it just wasn’t. In the end, Jake was going to be the epicentre of all her thoughts from now on and till he came back. 

“Everything okay, sir?” She had to ask. If something had happened to her partner, she’d want to know right away.

“Yes, Santiago,” Holt said, sincere as always whilst he gave her a quick, affirmative nod. Sometimes, now more than ever, she hated that the captain was so hard to read. Jake could be dead and she wouldn’t know until he actually said it out loud. “Just be ready in 2.”

That’s the answer she had to settle for, she figured, so she did and grabbed her mug before pushing herself out of her chair. The faster everyone got to the briefing room, the sooner she could figure out what this ‘briefing of a graver quality’ actually meant. If it wasn’t for her utterly disciplined self-control, she’d be yelling, herding everyone into the briefing like sheep by now. Luckily everyone got up decently fast, got seated and turned their full attention towards the captain at the front of the room. Amy, of course, was seated at the very front; she was ready for anything.

“So as you all know, we have got a new, big case on our hands: The Hasselberg case.”

 _Hasselberg_ \- their cover name for Peralta’s case, since they had to make sure that no one else knew that Jake wasn’t really fired nor infiltrating the Italian mafia. They’d come up with it yesterday in Holt’s office after Jake’s dramatic exit.

“It is a big case; it is brand new so therefor we’re going to need as much information as we can possibly gather. Make sure to keep your eyes and ears open for any kind of information that we can pass on to the 9-5 in order to help the case along.”

The 9-5 - aka. the 95th precinct, which doesn’t really exist - was their cover name for the FBI. It was absolutely necessary that every title, name or number that could lead back to the FBI and the true nature of the case was covered up. They’d even been asked to update their passwords for their work computers before leaving work yesterday evening. Everything regarding the Ianucci-case had to be shut, sealed and impossible to break by the wrong people.

“But, and this is by far the most important information you’ll get at this briefing, you are in no way, shape or form allowed to interact with anyone involved in this case. It put not only your own, but also others' - such as civilians’ and other members of the NYPD’s - lives at risk. Your work only - and I can not emphasise the word only enough - consists of researching and observing.”

Everyone nodded in unison, understanding that an FBI-case wasn’t one to fool around with. Especially when one of their own was undercover.

“Dismissed.”

Everyone pushed their chairs back from under the tables, getting up and opening the door to the bullpen, acting like they’d just been briefed on a ordinary case. Yet Amy couldn’t help but suddenly notice how her hands felt extreme clammy as she made her way back to her desk, holding her mug tightly in her hands. It’d only been one day and Jake’s absence already made her feel like she was living under constant pressure; even stress, one might say. There was no way this feeling would be durable; no way she could go on for however long this case would last without succumbing to the draining feeling in the end. She couldn’t let that happen. Gosh, how did her life turn to this, she thought to herself as she rubbed her face in exasperation.

“You okay there?”

She looked up, quickly removing her hands from her face, to see Rosa standing by her desk. Her expression was tough as always, but somewhere deep down in her eyes, Amy could tell there was worry and care. In an effort to convince her friend - and herself too - that she was, or would be, okay, she put on a weak smile.

“Yeah, thank you for asking. I’m just worried about Jake, I guess…”

Rosa quickly replied with a nod coming from understanding, brief but telling, before shuffling on the spot and crossing her arms in front of her chest; almost like she was actually showing _nervousness_. Though she’d never admit it out loud, Rosa cared a lot about Jake and for a second it made Amy feel selfish. Rosa had known Jake for way longer than her, and here she was, feeling like this case affected her the most.

“I get it. But it’s Peralta… He might be an idiot, but he’s a smart idiot. He’ll be okay and back before we know it.”

Amy had to let out a chuckle at the honest, but nonetheless true, statement about her partner. He indeed was an idiot; a sweet, intelligent idiot. “Yeah, you’re right. I can’t wait to hear him compare the case to Die-Hard and himself to John McClane.”

“Me neither.”

 

\--

But Amy thought everything was hell already, then she definitely hadn’t been prepared for what was coming next. After what seemed to the longest shift ever, which she guess she’d have to get used to since she wasn’t stupid enough to not know why today felt so long (Jake Peralta), she slowly made her way up the stairs in her apartment building, tiredly letting out a small huff with each step she took. Having already prepared her key in her hand, there were no seconds wasted before her front door was unlocked, allowing her to slip herself inside what she’d expected to be darkness.

But it wasn’t. And it smelled like… chicken? She thought to herself, frowning to nobody but herself as she put down her purse with a subtle thump. Then it came tumbling down, the feeling of realisation hitting her.

“Hey, honey!”

 _Teddy_.

“Hey.” 

It’s not that the fact that he had a spare key of her apartment and let himself in sometimes wasn’t kind of sweet, domestically speaking, but…Tonight, of all nights… He, out of all people today - the squad, angry perp, stuck up defence lawyer, another angry perp - Teddy was the last person she felt like hanging with. It would automatically inquire feelings, smiling, romance, being a decent girlfriend… Exactly everything she now dreaded ever since Jake had confessed his own desires. It messed her up more than anything else; it tore her between two very different worlds and quite honestly, she couldn’t figure out of she shunned Teddy’s because of him personally or because of Jake’s newly dropped bomb. 

“I finished work a bit early, so I thought I’d drop by and surprise you with a home-cooked meal,” he finished the sentence just as he reached her spot in the hallway, allowing him to round if off with - luckily for Amy since it meant she could just stand there without having to join in on the act herself, a quick - innocent peck on her lips.

“I’ve prepared us a delicious, French spinach quiche.”

Amy smiled, weakly but just strong enough to come off as genuine, as she shrugged her coat off and though about how she could really go for some pierogis, potato pancakes and hot chocolate. Though the thought was really sweet, all Amy really wanted was comfort food - not French cuisine that combined eggs, spinach and probably cheese.

“Teddy, you really didn’t have to-“

“Hey,” he looked at her, grabbing her hand and shutting her up. “I really wanted to and all you have to do to pay me back is sit with me and eat it. My pleasure.”

Her boyfriend’s smile was warm, spreading to his eyes which kept on looking into her with great generosity. On the outside she managed to keep her smile intact, but on the inside she felt worse than ever. Here, right in front of her and not somewhere hidden with the mafia in the suburbs of Brooklyn, was a really great guy who just wanted her to be happy. There was nothing too complicated about him; they shared some interests (mostly work-related) and he was easy to talk to. Also he didn’t ask for much; she’d given him the spare key without him even mentioning it.

And yet she couldn’t help but think - constantly - about Jake Peralta instead. Even as she dug her fork into her triangle-shaped slice of quiche, lightly illuminated by the candles Teddy hat lit and placed between them on the dinner table, her mind was somewhere else. It was wherever Jake was - wherever in New York he was right now. 

She secretly hoped he was safe, preferably enjoying a slice of meat supreme as she noticed that a lump of mushy spinach had gotten stuck in-between her teeth.


	3. Chapter 3

Amy’s breath was caught in her throat, trying to force its way up and out of her frozen body, but in vain. In the surprise of the moment, having all and everything to do with the person suddenly sitting across the table, her wrists felt cuffed to the table like a deer caught in the hunter’s trap. A hunter she’d only ever seen in pictures and on screens in the briefing room back at the precinct. Yet there was no doubt; this was him. 

 

“Good evening?” Amy internally facepalmed herself for letting the words roll off her tongue in the shape of a question, rather than a polite response. This guy was not just some creep hitting on her. If he was, she’d been up and gone a long time ago. 

 

Almost like he had an invisible fishing hook stuck in the right commissure of his lips, tucking upwards, a smug smirk formed on lips. Chills ran down her back, like the first water coming out of the shower-head before it goes warm, and it wasn’t the good kind. He wanted something from her. Had he seen her before? Had Jake told them about her? No, he couldn’t have- that was strictly forbidden. Had they figured him out without his knowledge? Was Jake hurt? 

 

“Was that you questioning how my evening is going? Or you questioning my presence at this table?” His smile never went away as he grabbed a tooth pick from the little holder placed at the centre of the able and added it in-between his smirking lips.

 

The horrible scenarios running though her mind were endless, but she couldn’t lose face in front of this man. That would be a free ticket to disaster. Consequently she slightly tilted up her chin, rolled her shoulders back and regained posture - this was war, in some way, and she’d have to be smart about it. 

 

“Both,” she squinted her her eyes lightly, just enough to look confident, before grabbing her tall glass of wine and elegantly taking a sip of it. As a little power move, having seen way too many spy-movies for her own good, she made sure to drag out the simple gesture. Upon finally allowing the glass to come back to rest on the red fabric, she lightly parted her lips to speak, but held her breath for a just a moment as her tongue swiped across her upper lip in search of remaining wine. Power move number two. The man across the table still smiled, but stayed silent, surprisingly patient and to her merit: intrigued. 

 

Her eyes flickered back to him. “Mostly the latter,” she finally breathed out, allowing another silence to grow. Her heart was beating to heart and fast against her ribcage. A small part of her prayed that he couldn’t hear it. Sure, she’d had boyfriends - has - but flirting had never come naturally. This right now was a serious case of acting, out of her element, and to be quite honest, she was very surprised by herself. 

 

If he hadn’t been smiling before, he definitely was now. “What’s a lovely lady like yourself doing here alone?” 

 

She could’ve just told him the truth; her boyfriend is a cop and had been called to work in the middle of dinner. She wasn’t _really_ a part of the Hasselberg-case after all. She didn’t have to cover for anything or anyone. She wasn’t the one being undercover. Yet something deep down in Amy Santiago told her that scaring off a huge criminal, when she had him in the palm of her hand, would be beyond stupid and actually breaking her oath. This could help the case; help Jake - even if she wasn’t supposed to interact directly with the case or its suspects. 

 

“Can’t a lady enjoy a dinner with herself?” She popped one eyebrow, looking as confident as possible whilst she raised her wine glass to her lips and took a sip - slowly, keeping the man hanging for as long as possible. Upon putting it down again, leaving a hot red lipstick stain on the glass’ edge, she saw the male guest’s eyes squint, quietly taking her in before letting out a ginger huff in the act of straightening his posture. 

 

“Not when her date was here just seconds ago and suddenly fled the scene…”

 

Amy froze for a second, realising that he hadn’t just popped by. He’d been there for a while, watching her and potentially hearing her - suddenly she couldn’t remember whether or not she’d told Teddy about the case that night, but oh how she wish she could. One thing that did appear in her mind though was the newcomer’s hair and tailored suit jacket. From behind. Amy’s eyes quickly switched to a spot behind him; there was where she recognised it from. The bar had been right behind Teddy, and once in a while when his pilsner-club stories got dragged out for just a tad too long, her eyes would drift off to the space behind him; hence the fact that she now suddenly recognise the stranger. He’d been there all along… 

 

“He’s a doctor. Emergency call,” Amy snapped out of her lost train of thought, epiphany even, leaning back in her seat to seem more relaxed and confident. Good thing Jake had forced her to watch so many stupid spy/cop movies, often involving a foxy female lead - sexist portration or not - that could now inspire her game a bit. 

 

“He’s a jerk.” The visitor shot back, mirroring Amy’s word. And even though Amy just straight up wanted to agree with this comeback, this wasn’t the time nor place nor person. She had started building a character the very second he sat down across the table, and there was no good, harmless way out of it now. “Who loves pilsners way too much.” 

 

Amy almost spat out some newly sipped wine, but held her breath and forced a steady placing of her glass. Once freed from the hold, her hand went to her mouth, quickly dabbing away the few drops of wined that had escaped onto her lips. 

 

“Let me buy you a glass of wine. I’ll show your meatball of a boyfriend what a real foxy lady like you should drink.” 

 

Amy froze for a second. This suggestion of his, though immediately innocent, was actually a determining point. This would decide the fallout of whatever situation this was. Either she’d accept; she’d let him know that she was complying with the fact that she was _interested_ in him. It could lead to a chance of investigating other sides of him - not to his knowledge, of course. Or she could decide to not meddle, in what was actually and wholly Jake’s case, and decline the drink. The man was still looking at her, though having lightly turned in his seat in order to be able to make eye contact with the bartender, if she were to say yes. His dark, brown eyes were expectant - almost if he already knew her answer. Amy dug her upper teeth into her bottom lip, letting her brief doubt showcase itself, before snapping out of it and regaining her composure. 

 

“I already have a glass of wine though. Get me something more… _exotic_.”

 

Though she didn’t allow herself to soften or her lips to smile, her eyes were vivid and definitely very much present in the act of her flirting. Now that she’d implicitly _accepted_ and even _reciprocated_ his interest in her she couldn’t let down her game or guard for even a second. This person had more power than the regular man, but she’d have to act like she didn’t already know his double-life and keep him in check.

 

His expression quickly transitioned to a self-satisfied pose.“Of course. An exotic woman like you deserves way more exotic than snobby French wine.” 

 

“I have one demand though,” she added. Power move. 

 

He turned back to face her, having quickly managed to catch the bartender’s attention and ordered them both a drink from the comfort of his chair. 

 

“Anything for you, doll.” 

 

Ugh, she internally cringed at the condescending pet-name, but kept it off the surface. Of all the people she had to act interested in, this was probably the worst kind.

 

“Of course. On one condition though.”

 

Amy deadpanned, already fed up with his cockiness. “What?”

 

“You tell me yours.”

 

“I guess I can give you that in return for a sloppy drink…” She wasn’t about to let him feel like what he was doing was actually impressing her. Like he’d swept her off her feet with a few gross pickup lines and alcohol. She had to keep it as cool as possible until she knew him better than beyond what was in his file back at the precinct. And he only seemed more and more amused by this cold act. 

 

“Cassandra Palma.” 

 

“Well, Cassandra-” the bartender finally placed their respective drinks in front of them before quickly leaving again.

Amy’s eyes rushed from the pinkish, lustful drink to his dark, observing eyes. “A Cosmopolitan?” She cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed, before taking her time with a sip of it. “…How _original_ and not stereotypical at all.” She dearly hoped he could hear the venomous undertone in her voice. 

 

He himself took a sip of his drink, the name of it unknown to Amy, before lightly shaking his head as a breathy chuckle danced out of his nostrils. “It’s going to be a long night if you’re going to keep on acting hostile like that, Cassandra.” 

 

“Who says I’m acting?” Gracefully, the beautiful latina placed her elbows on the table and intertwined her fingers to rest under her chin, remembering a gorgeous actress doing the same in a spy movie she watched with Teddy not too long ago. 

 

“A truly hostile woman wouldn’t have accepted a strangers drink,” his right index finger danced along the edge of his glass, a smirk still stuck on his face, knowing very well that she’d have no good comeback for this. 

 

“Well, you won’t be a stranger anymore as soon as you tell me you’re name… I told you mine.” 

 

“Fair enough,” he straightened his posture before leaning in closer to her, onto his elbows and over the table, as if he was about to tell a secret. 

 

“Leonardo Ianucci. But just because you’re that pretty, you can call me Leo.”

 

A few tables away, behind Amy and well out of her sight, suspicious eyes and ears kept up with the scene unfolding between the newly introduced pair. His, the observer, heart was beating hard and fast, along with every syllable and word exchanged between them. Even though she probably should've been, Amy - or Cassandra - didn't really seem intimidated or faced by the revelation of the stranger's name. But she would've been if she'd known what she was getting herself into, the gravity of the circumstances, the observer thought to himself.

He himself was here working for Leo and his family - he had no fear of the Ianuccis - but how he wished Cassandra had. 


	4. Chapter 4

A few weeks went by, dragging slowly as always since Jake still wasn’t to be seen or heard from, but at least she could occupy herself with the leading role as Leo Ianucci’s newest piece of eye candy. Since their first encounter at the restaurant, the two had been on a couple of dates, but turns out- to Amy’s frustration - it took more than just a pretty face and witty mouth to get information out of Leonardo. Whenever he talked about his family - which she hadn’t even met since he’d always leave her in the car whenever he had to drop by their homes - he always kept it superficial and vague. 

On the other hand, he asked a lot of questions about her. So he should, Amy thought to herself. A member of one of the biggest crime families in New York shouldn’t interact with just whoever… There needed to be details and they had to be airtight. Amy knew, which is also why she spent the whole night after getting home from the restaurant, writing down her new identity Cassandra Palma’s background and story. Whenever needed, she could now pull a brand new blue binder (the best kind) out from under her bed and check up on her characters details.

Cassandra Palma was born in Hoboken on August 24th 1988. 25 years old; almost 26.

Important detail since Amy had done her research and found out that the mafia member liked his women a bit younger. Amy had looked herself in the mirror, thinking that she could go for 5 years younger - right? She’d have to anyways. 

Moving on, she’d grown up with loving parents Maria and Luca Palma, an only child, and was currently studying to become a dentist. Luckily the questions were mostly easy to answer, never very deep but just rather logistical and fundamental. Categorising the information needed to answer these questions felt like taking candy from a baby with the multiple, colour-coordinated tabs in her binder: Family, home, education, work, lifestyle, medical records - it was all assembled in one place. She even kept a copy in the bottom desk drawer at work. Just for safety measures, in case Leo contacted her during work hours. 

 

“Santiago!” 

Rosa’s sharp voice quickly drew her out of her thoughts, smacking her right away and letting her realise that she’d been unconsciously staring at said drawer for the past few minutes. Trying to act as nonchalant as possible about it, she quickly regained a straight posture in her seat before giving her colleague her undivided attention. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Rosa popped an eyebrow in disbelief, uncrossing her arms from across her chest to point in the direction of her own desk. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for years now. I’ve got some new information on the Hasselberg-case.”

Those two words could rock Amy’s world any time, any where. These case-updates were equal her dose of Jake, which was horribly pitiful since it was usually just location move-updates and other un-Jake information. At the very least she knew he was still alive and well.

“Oh, sorry. I’m just tired. I…“ she halted for a second, seeing a text from Teddy appear on her lockscreen, “…had a late night argument with Teddy…”

Upon hearing this, Rosa’s face dropped its angry expression and dropped a sigh. “Oh… I’m sorry to hear. But want to be updated? Briefing room now.” Blunt and brief as always, she turned on her heals and walked away with Amy quickly following behind. In the briefing room sat the entire squad, seeming to only wait for her. Captain Holt sent the newly arrived a brief nod, telling her to close the door behind them.

“Okay, squad… I know this case has been incredibly draining to follow. I get that being forced to be a by-stander makes one feel useless, especially when one of our own is involved. But the case is evolving and I have just received a list of new, potential suspects to add to the case the FBI is building against the Ianuccis. The names on the list are being looked into as we speak, but the FBI has hit a wall with one of them and has therefor reached out to us.”

Everyone suddenly straightened in theirs seats, taken by surprise and wanting to jump onto the tables out of pure joy. Especially Amy. Any kind of information about this case meant one - maybe small but still - closer to getting Jake back. She’d take whatever she could get.

“If you look at the list of name’s in front of you, the last one is not a name, but rather a description.”

Amy’s eyes shot to the paper in front of her, quickly skimming the names but more than anything heading straight for this mentioned description:

 

_Female, 30-35, 5’4”-5’8”, dark hair, Latin-American appearance. Last spotted July 3rd, 2014. 8:48 PM, leaving restaurant ‘Furiosa’ with brothers Leonoard and Rico Ianucci. Exact identity of suspect still unknown._

 

Halfway through the description, suddenly well-aware of what was happening, Amy’s stomach dropped with 500 miles pr. hour. To everyone else around her in this room, the people she cherished and respected the most, the identity of this mystery woman remained a puzzle, but to Amy… It was crystal clear. She’d brought this upon herself, wanting to help Jake and the case, but it was now leading the squad and FBI down all sorts of side roads and detours; all because she was what? Impatient. Confused. Going insane over said partners sudden burst of emotions. Karma was a bitch, but a annoyingly righteous one. 

“I bet she’s just another dumb mistress and therefor waste of our resources,” Rosa spoke up, flatly, before kicking back in her seat, obviously feeling defeated and as affected by the stall of the case as everyone else. Though her tough friend didn’t show it, Amy was sure… Rosa was one of Jake’s oldest friends and she cared a great deal for the idiot, though she’d never openly admit it.

“What? Just because she’s a woman? Rosa!” Boyle exclaimed, almost sounding offended, joining what seemed to be an now open discussion. “Women can be criminals too! We shouldn’t just assume that she’s a _sex_ _object_ to Leo just because she’s female. I thought you were a feminist!”

Amy couldn’t help but shudder - luckily nobody noticed - upon hearing Boyle call her Leo’s sex object. It definitely wasn’t the case, but to be honest, specifically this had crossed her mind a lot lately. How long could she keep on rejecting the man’s suggestive flirting and touches, before he’d eventual snap and dump her? Sure, she’d presented Cassandra as a deviant, curt and opinionated woman from the very start, but her time was definitely running out. There was no doubt. It was just a matter of time before their rare, and even then short, make-out sessions would _have_ to be taken to the next level. Thank heavens for the other woman - Cassandra Palma might’ve been a mistress, but not a stupid one - Leo was seeing for keeping him satisfied for so long.

“Santiago?”

For the second time that day, Amy realised that she’d totally zoned out and out whatever was going on around her. For the second time that day, Rosa had to remind her of this and pull her out of her thoughts. And to add to the disorientation, Rosa, Gina, Scully and Hitchcock all had their hand raised. “Uh, s-sorry. You were saying?”

“What do you think we should do about this suspect?Actual relevant link in the Ianucci-case or…” Diaz cocked a brow in the direction of her raised hand, emphasising her opinion and support of what she was about to say, “Irrelevant mistress who we should just shrug off?”

“Oh..” The room was silent. Everyone looking at Amy’s otherwise subdued presence. “Uhm…”

“It’s a tie, so the decision is up to you. I trust your judgement,” Holt spoke up from his spot behind the podium in the front of the room.

“Excuse me? A tie?” Amy’s head snapped in the direction of the obviously offended voice, which came from Gina. The spectacular woman’s face was twisted in a highly displeased frown, right hand still raised in the air. “Do you see this raised, gorgeously manicured hand? It’s a sign of my vote and so it shall be counted as one.”

A small sigh escaped Holt’s nostrils, giving him a second to collect his slight frustration with his assistant, before speaking up. “Gina, as my assistant who is not working under police oath, therefor a civilian, we sadly cannot count your vote.”

Tearing apart the quietness of the briefing room, Gina dramatically pushed back her chair and stood up. “I will not accept to be a victim of this corruptness. This dictatorship!”

With a look that looked _almost_ as offended as it had the time Donald Trump blocked her on twitter (how was she supposed to make fun of him now?), she tore her assistant-badge off the edge of her jeans, before throwing it to the ground and strutting out of the room. 

Holt’s eyes calmly followed the assistant, internally suppressing the frustration the woman in question often caused him to feel, as she walked through the now opened door before shutting it close with a loud bang. He not as much as flinched.

“As I was saying,” he finally turned back to Amy, making her the room’s center of attention. “We need you to vote and decide what we should do: Join the FBI in finding out who this mystery woman is and if she has a possible criminal purpose? Or assume that she is simply an innocent women who has been caught around the wrong people at the wrong time?”

Amy froze. Her breath as well. Now she suddenly understood how the greek god Atlas felt. Never had she ever felt the weight of the world quite like this. There really wasn’t a good option in this case.

“I…” She bit her lip, not sure of where the sentence was going.

Either she let them work the case and figure out that she was the mystery woman, which could potentially lead her to be suspended or even worse… fired. But at least she would get to pass on the information she’d collected so far.

Or she protected her career, told them to ignore it, and all the information she’d gathered so far would forever only be known to her… Maybe the information she’d gathered wasn’t groundbreaking or much better than what they already had, but she’d never know without anyone else’s opinion on it. That was the whole point of a police squad. Multiple people; multiple brains. Trust.

Amy had been conflicted before, but this was a whole new level. The conflicts had never involved such big stakes -especially professional stakes. When on earth did she decide that meddling in a totally off-limit case was a good idea? When on earth had Jake Peralta achieved the ability to drive her to this amount of unprofessional and inexcusable crazy? When on earth had Amy Santiago completely run astray and broken a direct order from her superior commander?

Of course it was bound to take a turn for the worse, and now she was forced to chose _how_ she wanted to crash and burn.

"I think you- I mean **we** should..."


End file.
